


An Apple a Day keeps the Doctor away

by cesttoiquivois



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-10 12:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cesttoiquivois/pseuds/cesttoiquivois
Summary: Regina Mills doesn’t treat patients, she treats injuries, diseases… But when her husband dies on the table, it becomes difficult to see those patients as just cases and one day, as she looks down at her blood-covered hands in the middle of an operation, as she feels the sweat pearling on her forehead and the rush of panic inside her chest… she knows it’s over. Hematophobia. That’s how they call this. Fear of blood. It’s one simplified way to describe what’s happening. It’s also the hushed words she would hear in the hallways of the hospital and the reason why she’s here, in this town with these people and it might just be what she needs.An Outlaw Queen romance.





	1. A New Doctor in Town

**Author's Note:**

> Story inspired by British series Doc Martin (but perhaps a bit darker).  
> I hope you'll enjoy the ride and if you do, reviews are always appreciated and motivating.  
> Rating will change as the story goes. _Ella.

_ This is a good idea. _

At least this is what Regina Mills tells herself as she loads the last of her luggage into the trunk of her car.

She closes the door with a small bang and sighs as she glances up at the building that has once accommodated her. She's walking away. That's what her mother bitterly said over the phone the day she told her about her plans to leave the city and drop her career as a surgeon all the same.

She isn't, she attempts to convince herself. She stayed and tried but the reality remains still: Daniel is dead and she's now a surgeon with a severe case of blood fright. She couldn't have possibly kept on practicing, putting her patients at risk and she couldn't keep on living here either, not with all these memories. Leaving was -- is the best option. Starting a new life. A family physician in a small town, away from the city, away from New York, away from the painful reminder that she's alone, that Daniel is gone and that she has failed as a surgeon.

So, yes, this is a good idea.

She brings her index finger to her mouth and bites its side gently, her eyes darting around as she mentally double checks to see if she's forgotten anything.

She doesn't own much. At least, not much she can't live without. She's given out most of Daniel's belongings. His clothes and his drawing tools and materiel…

She isn't an artist. The opposite really. Daniel was a dreamer, he loved to fantasize and let his mind wander. She's more levelheaded. She likes to keep her feet on the ground. Sometimes, she wonders what made the man fall for her despite all her flaws, her quirks… She isn't an easy woman to love, yet, he loved her.

She hasn’t kept much of him, just a few pictures and one of his sweater, (the large grey one stained with paints and dried glue that he adored and used to wear all the time making Regina’s skin crawl.

She's a neat freak. That's how they call people like her. She likes when things are clean and in order. Daniel understands --  _ understood _ . He was just very protective of this one sweater, calling it  _ his  _ “fortuitous art piece”.

Along with these, she's bringing a legitimate piece of art,  _ Awoken Reverie _ . It’s a large canvas depicting a beautiful landscape. Large trees surrounding a clear water pond where ducks and birds are swimming. Bright red, purple, and yellow flowers under a pale blue sky trimmed with funny shaped clouds. To the side, completely out of place and randomly displayed there, a lion with a trunk and an elephant with a mane are bathing under the sun… This was Daniel's signature. He loved to insert whimsical elements to his work. Why? When she asked him the question, he simply shrugged and chuckled, stating that he  _ just  _ “lets his hand do the job without questioning its intention”.

She loves it. Despite the silliness and cheesiness of it. It comes from  _ him _ . It's a little piece of his mind drawn on a piece of paper, just for her.

Regina blinks black a tear, biting the inside of her lower lip. She sucks in a deep breath before looking at her trunk one last time. These are things. The ones she's bringing with her into this new life, this new town. They’re all she needs.

_ This is a good idea. _

…

It's raining when she arrives in Boston and she's tired.

She's only made two stops since she left New York. One at a gas station and the other at a diner, the persistent grumbles of her stomach having forced her to ignore her general rule to only eat homemade (by her and solely by her) food. The drive is long and the last meal she took was a cup of coffee and an apple for breakfast and despite her small appetite, even she can't go ten hours straight without eating, so she gave in to a salad and a glass of water.

She doesn't stop to sleep though. She fears that if she does, that voice in her head -- her mother's voice -- will get the upper hand and that she'll find herself driving back the other way in the morning. So she drives on and it's early anyway, merely 6p.m. If she keeps her pace, she'll be in Storybrooke by 8 -9 tops. She can manage that.

…

Storybrooke, Maine, is a small town. She knows that much. She made her research and she knows that its population is of barely 800 people. Still, when she crosses the town line and finds herself in the middle of a giant forest (it seems so from the inside of her Mercedes), she wonders if the term "small" isn't a bit of a misguidance.

Large and tall pine trees and other conifers surround her, making it hard to even see the sky. From afar, she can almost hear the sounds of wild animals despite the roar of the engine. It almost feels like she’s just entered a new world, a place coming straight out of a storybook. Thinking of it, with its town slogan,  _ It's a Land of Magic _ , and its name, there's no doubt that whoever created Storybrooke had a liking for fantasy tales. 

After a good ten-minute-drive through the forest, she finally arrives into a seemingly more populated area. The town in itself is indeed small. On the way to her new office -- slash -- house, she passes by a harbor, a diner outside which a few customers look up at her with prying eyes, a bed and breakfast, a rather impressive clock tower and a small park with… a pond. The sight of the latest almost makes her stop, its resemblance to Daniel's painting almost troubling. She quickly shakes the thought away, not really wanting to draw too much attention. There's a school as well as a shelter for animals that seems to have, however, been abandoned. She also recognizes a woodwork place and she finds herself slowing down. It must be Uncle Gep’s.

Marco is her mother's brother. Regina used to call him Uncle Geppetto, Uncle Gep, because her childhood mind was certain that he looked too much like the old man from the fairy tale book not to be him. Adding to that, the numerous puppet shows he used to give her, the mistake is understandable even for a child as pragmatic as Regina was.

Uncle Gep used to visit a lot when she was younger until he stopped and no one ever spoke of him again. She never knew what happened. Not that she ever asked. She's always known her place, and adult business wasn't.

He doesn't know she's coming. The thought of calling him crossed her mind before being replaced by a sentiment of uneasiness. After all these years, it would have been strange, wouldn't it?

She parks her car in front of the carpenter's house and eyes the inside. The closed sign has been flipped but the lights are still on. Maybe showing up unannounced is just as strange, she thinks, but settling down as a family doctor in the town in which he lives without coming to visit… well, is that much better?

The brunette sighs. She brings her index to her mouth and clamps her teeth around it. 1, 2, 3 seconds pass before she unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the door. This side of the town is rather quiet compared to the harbor and diner area and she's grateful for that. She isn't quite ready to mingle just yet (or ever). She slides her legs outside of the vehicle and puts her heeled shoes down on the tar road. 

_ Breathing in _ .  _ Breathing out _ . 

She stands up and closes the door. Turning around, she can read a sign on top of the façade:  _ Marco Tiraboschi woodworker/handyman _ . Regina runs her tongue on her lips and bites them before walking towards the building. She slides her hands on the fabric of her jeans, looking down at the knob. Once she finally plucks up the courage to open the door, she finds herself face to face with an amused old man, arms crossed over his chest.

She opens her mouth but closes it almost instantly. However, her eyes remained wide open and the man chuckles, shaking his head.

"How long have you been waiting for me?"

She's still shaken by the unexpected presence but she keeps her demeanor still, looking at him nonchalantly.

"As soon as you've arrived in town," he says simply with a lopsided smile. "People around here have been waiting for a new doc for a while now. So when words came out of a new fancy car registered in New York passing through the town, it wasn't hard to connect the dots."

"It has merely been a few minutes," Regina says, now having a hard time hiding her surprise.

How have people already been talking about her? she wonders, in shock.

"It's a small town," Uncle Gep replies, simply. "People talk."

She nods at that, can't really argue. It's something she'll have to get accustomed to, she guesses.  _ People _ . She closes her eyes briefly, trying to ignore the stinging shiver of discomfort that runs down her spine. She looks around then and takes in the place. She doesn't enter just yet though, just observes quietly.

She often imagined what her uncle's house would look like and this is pretty close to what she had in mind. Granted, she isn't exactly in his house as much as in a garage which has been converted into a workshop, but still.

Around her, loads of handmade objects are scattered on the floor. Dusty wooden boards on which tools are hanging and resting are facing her. It makes her rub her hands together and swallow the saliva caught in her throat.

"If I'd known you were coming today, I would have cleaned up a bit," the old carpenter says, almost apologetically, knowing her fondness for tidier places.

"That's fine," Regina assures, straightening her spine as she looks back at him. "How did you know it was me?"

"I have my sources," he replies mysteriously, making his eyebrows wriggle.

There's a small silence then he opens his arms.

"Will you come here?" he asks gently.

"I don't do hugs," she reminds him, biting her lip.

"You used to allow me one, if I recall correctly."

She smiles, she can't help it. She used to allow him one, indeed. To him and him only… and Daniel, as well, much later in years.

She enters the shop and walks up to him, letting him wrap his arms around her. She doesn't embrace him back, lets her arms hang to her sides but he holds her tight and she breathes in the familiar acrid scent of tobacco.

He hasn't changed one bit. He's still her Uncle Gep. The one that used to make her smile after a week spent suffering the mockeries of other children.. The one that used to tell her ridiculous stories and would let her stop him at every sentence to argue how unlikely it'd be for Dumbo's ears to be strong enough to carry his weight.  _ It was ridiculous _ .

"You still smoke," she points out, quietly.

"Chew," he corrects.

She fights the urge to roll her eyes at that. What's the difference? It'll end up killing him anyway.

There's a small silence and he parts from her, looking into her eyes.

"I've missed you  _ piccola mia _ ," he whispers, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"You're the one who never came back," Regina deadpans, beyond reproach. She just points it out.

He lets his hand fall to his side and gives her a shameful smile.

"I know," he nods honestly before turning around to stand behind his working table. "So, what brings you into our humble town?" he asks from there.

She doesn't mind the change of subject and decides to let it slide. What's done is done, there's no point in dwelling on it.

"I heard you were doing quite well in New York. A renowned surgeon." He looks up and smiles. "I'm proud of you, you know that, right?"

She acquiesces.

Being a surgeon has always been her dream for as far as she can remember. Her father died when she was barely seven. Stomach cancer. A part of her has always felt the desire to cure all diseases because of that and her uncle pushed her to fulfill that wish. If it wasn't for him, she would have probably ended up working at her mother's law firm.

"I needed something new," she tells him, moving cautiously, watching her every steps not to walk on some glue or worse.

"Well, I hope you'll find it here."

"So do I," she murmurs.

He smiles and she gives him a meek one back.

He doesn't ask further questions. He simply watches her with contentment. He's happy she's here, she can tell. He’s missed her. She’s missed him as well but she has learnt to live with his absence. She's glad to have him back in her life though. It's just -- odd.

"I should go," she voices after clearing her throat. "The drive was long and I want to rest a little."

"Alright," he tells her with a beam. "I'll drop by tomorrow. See if you need anything. The doc's house is old and it might need some fixing."

She nods and he grins anew. He asks her for one last hug and she gives in, making him promise not to ask her for one in the morning. He chuckles but agrees to her request, calling it fair.

…

It's a big house and it surprises her. However, her uncle was right, it's an old house.

When she enters, holding one of her suitcase in one hand and her purse and medical bag in the other, she immediately finds herself in a small foyer. She ponders whether or not to put her bags down, for the floor (and the whole room) is quite dusty, before giving in. She'll clean them afterwards anyway.

The small foyer leads to a large space to the left with chairs placed all around, against the walls and a desk on top of which stands an old computer. The waiting room. At the back of this room there are two doors behind which Regina assumes are the examination room and the lavatory.

Opposite the waiting room, there's a kitchen with a large wooden island, fully equipped and leading to a living room. And lastly, facing the front door, there are stairs at the end of which are probably the two bedrooms and one bathroom the mayor told her about over the phone before excusing himself for not being able to be present to welcome her. She assured him that it was alright, he insisted that he would make it up to her. Whatever that meant.

It's nice, she supposes. It's alright. Well, it'll be after a bit of dusting and sweeping… she puts a finger on the console by the front door and frowns when it comes out sticky -- and scrubbing.

…

She's done cleaning. Almost done. She's in the kitchen now, scrubbing under the hood when she hears the doorbell.

She frowns instantly, wondering who that could be. Carefully sliding off her spot on the counter, she gently lands on the floor. She takes off her gloves and heads toward the front door.

"Hi," a man with a wide smile greets her as soon as she opens.

"Good evening," she says herself, eyeing him in confusion.

He's a tall blonde man with dusty blue eyes. He is young, younger than her, maybe in his late twenties. Wearing a plaid shirt half tucked into worn jeans over what seems to be a white tank top, he looks at her expectantly as if she's supposed to have been waiting for him.

"Who are you?" she asks with a brisk tone.

"I'm Dave, Doc," he says and she tries not to grimace at the diminutive. "Handyman," he continues at her quizzical expression. "Marco sent me. ‘Told me you might need a hand."

Oh.

She looks back inside the house and it's true that she could use some help. She's having trouble with the running water and there's an unpleasant smell coming from the first floor toilet despite her having cleaned them. She was planning on waiting for tomorrow, for when her uncle would visit, but the sooner the better, she supposes.

She turns to face the young man. He's still smiling and he seems nice. He's already here after all, she might as well use him.

"Come in," she tells him, stepping to the side. "There seems to be a problem with the running water on the first floor. I need it functional because it's where I'll be welcoming the patients."

"Of course. I'll take a look at it," he nods, coming inside. A snicker leaves his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen that place as clean before and I've been coming here my whole life."

"I… I just like when things are… neat."

"No worries, Doc. It's fine by me and it's actually nice. People will enjoy coming here."

"Well." She lets out a wry chuckle, closing the door and leading him to the kitchen. "It's not really a place people should enjoy coming to. It's a practice. If they're here, it means that they're sick… There's nothing enjoyable about that."

She stops by the sink and turns around to meet the eyes of an amused David.

"You've never been a family doc in a small town before, have you?"

Regina straightens her spine, folding her arms over her chest defensively.

"I can't say I have."

He laughs again.

"Well, let's just say that from as far as I can remember, apart from Granny's diner, the doc's office has always been the most popular place in Storybrooke. Old people like to visit the doctor," he jokes, winking at her.

Regina swallows, closing her eyes briefly.

_ People _ .

"Well, you're a doc,” he adds, “you probably already know that."

"Not really," she whispers so low she's surprised to see he's heard her. "I just… I was a surgeon. I used to treat diseases and injuries… Treating patients is a first."

"Oh." He's confused, probably wondering what made a surgeon become a family physician and she instantly feels embarrassed. "Well don't worry," he tells her then, "People are nice around here. Plus, you're Marco's niece. Everyone adores him so they'll like you too."

"Great," she utters weakly. "Anyway, here's the sink but I'm not sure where the water's main inlet is."

"Don't worry, Doc. I got it."

She cringes. Can't help it.

"It's Doctor," she corrects. "Doctor Mills."

"Oh… Yes. Doctor Mills."

She nods and looks at him for a second before going back to the hood.

_ It's a good idea. It's a good idea. _

…

She thought the handyman would have been her only visitor for the day. She was wrong.

At least ten people followed, knocking on her door, welcoming her to the new town with pies and other homemade dishes. At the beginning, she refused their attention as politely as she could, telling them that she was a picky eater, but by the time the fifth well-meaning visitor stopped by, she just gave in and accepted the treats. She'll put them in the trash eventually or give them to that small hairy thing she thinks is a dog that has apparently taken up residence by the dead asters near her front fence.  _ Toto _ , someone called him before telling her that it was  _ Dorothy's dog _ . "A nice girl with a big imagination. ‘Goes to high school in Augusta so she's not around much. The poor thing misses her. She used to work here, helping the doc's receptionist, Ruby. Oh Ruby. You'll meet her soon. Nice girl too but if you want my opinion, she shouldn't go around town wearing such revealing outfits. She's Granny's granddaughter. Always smiling and kind hearted but… a bit of a lush… Anyways, I should probably leave you. You’ll probably busy. Have a nice evening."

Regina sighs as she closes the door on the hopefully last intruder for the day. She shuts her eyes and leans on the wooden piece.

A chuckle startles her and when she looks up she finds David smiling at her.

"Told you. People love to come here." He laughs again. "Anyways, I'm done here," he informs her and it's the one good news of the day.

She follows him to the kitchen and opens the tap. Instantly, water starts flowing and she sighs in relief.

"I unplugged the toilets. It hadn't been used in a while that's from where the smell was coming. Now, it's all good. Oh and I checked your phone line and it's been cut. Since tomorrow is Sunday, it's unlikely you'll find anyone to fix it, but on Monday you should check in with Leroy. He's our town's radio host but he also works for the city hall at times. He'll probably be able to help you."

"Thank you," Regina tells him, grateful, before running a tired hand over her forehead.

"Just doing my job," he beams at her. "I should go. See you around, Doc."

_ Doctor. _

Regina bites her lips and lets herself fall on a kitchen chair. She glances down at her wrist and reads the time on her watch. 10:30pm. She sighs. She leans over the table and grabs the piece of foil covering one of the dishes she received and pulls it up.

A small sound of disgust leaves her mouth as she covers the plate of potatoes and -- is that cheese? -- back. She stands up and leaves the room, heading upstairs. She needs a shower. A cold and long one.

Opening her bedroom door, she finds herself face to face with Daniel's painting resting on the headboard. Her heart tightens in her chest.

She walks toward her bed and sits on it. She grabs the hefty canvas and gently lies it down on the mattress. She lets her fingers wander around the frame, stopping on the signature at the lower right corner.  _ Daniel Colter _ . He would have loved it here. The smalltown element, the people… It was his thing. Bonding, talking, block parties…

_ Have you met our new neighbors? They seem nice. Oh, you should bake one of your delicious apple pies for them. _

_ If I bake them an apple pie they'll feel obliged to cook us something that will end up in the trash. _

_ Or I could eat it. _

He had smirked at her while saying that and she had rolled her eyes. 

He was like that. He would have loved it here. Maybe, in a way, that's why she chose it. Maybe, subconsciously, it's her way of feeling closer to him.

Regina brings a hand to her neck and pulls out a silver chain from underneath her navy blue top. Her gaze lowers and falls upon the silver wedding band attached to it. She strokes it gently before bringing it to her lips, her eyes closing.

A car accident. That's all it took and now he's gone.

A loud banging on the front door followed by the ringing of the bell interrupts her thoughts and her eyes flash open.

"Not again," Regina mutters, once her heart rate has decreased. She thinks about ignoring the disturbance but the bell rings anew and this time it's followed by a pressing 'Doc'.

The “Doc” in question reluctantly pushes the canvas back to rest against the headboard and stands up. Her brows are knitted together as she climbs down the stairs rapidly to reach the foyer. Once there, she opens the door on a man carrying in his arms a young boy.

The first thing that strikes her is the man's alarmed expression as he rocks the child in his arms. The boy's face is buried into his carrier's neck but she can tell he mustn't be older than five.

"Oh Doc," the man exclaims with relief. "I know it's late," he continues with a strong (and surprising) British accent. "It's my boy. He's been feverish all day but I think it's gotten worse."

"The practice doesn't open until Monday," she replies, her eyes darting between the two and stopping on the older one, she realizes that her tone might have seemed a bit insensitive. She closes her eyes briefly, clearing her throat. "I mean, I don't have anything that could help me examine your son," she tells him and he lets a noisy sound leave his nose.

"Please, the hospital is in Brighton… I just…" A small whimper is heard and the boy clings harder to his father before coughing. "Please," he repeats, looking back up at her.

She takes a moment to answer but finally, a sound of approval leaves her mouth as she nods.

The man thanks her (more time than necessary) and he steps inside. Immediately, a smell reaches her nose as he passes by her. It's subtle and she can't quite put the finger on what it is but it's pleasant and earthy and it makes her heart miss a beat.

Regina closes the door behind him, shaking her head a little and asks the intruder to follow her into her office.

"Lie him there," she dictates pointing at the examination table.

He obeys without wasting a second, whispering what seems to be soothing words to the boy. Regina looks at them, biting her lower lip, feeling a discomfort in her lower belly..

"I…" She shakes her head again. "I'll be right back. I'm going to get my medical bag."

He doesn't answer, his attention only on the child stirring in discomfort before him. He nods though and she leaves them for a while, heading to the second floor.

When she's back, the blonde man has taken a chair to sit next to his son and he’s now stroking his hair quietly, pressing a cloth to his forehead.

Regina puts her bag on the desk and pulls out a stethoscope.

"I… I need to check his breathing," she asks and the father looks at her before acquiescing.

He parts from the child causing him to whine a little.

"Don't worry, my boy," he tells him, "Doc just needs to check your breathing so we're going to lift your shirt a bit for her, ok?"

He doesn't reply but he doesn't resist when his father helps him out of his jacket and tee-shirt..

Regina places the tips of the stethoscope in her ears and positions the diaphragm on the left up part of the boy's chest. He jumps immediately.

"S'cold Papa," he protests, grabbing his father's arm and scooting away from Regina.

"I know but it'll be over soon. You've just got to stay still," the man tells him before giving her the green light with a nod of his head.

She tries again and he stirs again but stays in place.

"Can he breathe in and out loudly for me?" she asks.

"Do you hear, my boy? In and out, just like the yoga lady on the telly, you remember?"

The boy acquiesces and does as he's told.

Regina puts the diaphragm on his right chest then before doing the same on his back.  _ Congested, as expected.  _ She nods and puts the stethoscope around her neck. She brings her fingers to feel his neck for swollen glands but there aren't any.

"Does he have trouble eating or drinking?" she asks the father nonetheless. "Does it hurt when he swallows?"

The man frowns, looking down at his son, shaking his head.

"No, not really but he's not been eating much…"

"That's normal. The fever tires him down. It looks like it's just a cold," she tells him after a small pause. "It's pretty common for children to catch it especially with this weather… I'll write you a prescription to treat his fever and the cough and it should relieve him."

He nods, caressing his son’s cheek.

"I'll stop by at the pharmacist's tonight so he can be treated right away." He glances up at her, a look of uncertainty on his face. "Can you… I know we've just met and that what I'm going to ask you isn't in any way part of your job's description but…"

From that point on, Regina's brows are now so close, they seem like a straight line and panic surges inside her body.

"Would you mind keeping an eye on him for me?" he asks without missing a beat.

She opens her mouth but closes it back, completely stunned. She looks at the man, then at the boy and back at the man.

"I can't do that."

"Please, it's just down main street. It'll take me five minutes tops to drive there and five to come back. It's closed but Belle is a lovely girl, I'm sure she'll open if I explain what happened. I just…" He looks down at his son who is lying on the table. "I don't want to move him around too much."

"Doesn't he have a mother?" Regina inquires before she can stop herself, too preoccupied by the need to find a solution out of this.

"If he did, I wouldn't be asking you," he answers quietly. A beat. "She isn't around right now," he tells her and she feels a wave of guilt quickly wash over her body. "Plus, if there's a problem, he's already with a doctor."

The brunette bites her lip hard, shifting on her feet.

"Fine," she whispers. "I'll watch him."

'Thank you. Thank you so much," he tells her and he flashes her a smile flanked with two dimples.

Regina swallows hard as he stands to walk over to her.

_ Forest,  _ she recognizes suddenly. His scent. It's of pines and woods. It's male and fresh, faint on him yet she could feel it cling to her skin from the second he's entered the house.  _ He smells like forest _ .

"I'll be quick as a wink." She blinks her eyes and focuses back on what he's saying. "Just tell me what to get him and I'll be back before you know it."

Her head and lower belly seem to fight two different battles for one scream for her to run while she still can and the other is too busy twirling, almost making her blush.

She ignores them both however and she nods. She goes to grab her notebook and write him a prescription before tearing the paper and handing it to him.

"Thank you," he says with  _ that _ smile again before going back to his son. "Hey, my boy," he whispers, "you've got to stay a little bit with the doc…"

He looks up at her and it takes a handful of seconds for her to realize that he's waiting for her name.

"Doctor Mills… Doctor Regina Mills."

"Doc Regina," he continues and her heart jumps in her chest at the way her name rolls on his tongue. "You'll be a good boy, huh?" The boy nods and his father smiles. "I'll be here before you have time to miss me."

"Ok Papa." He coughs "Come back quickly."

"I will." He kisses his son's forehead and now he's back before her.

This time he's closer. Too close, really and it makes her suddenly defensive, the hair of her neck rising.

She doesn't like when people stand so close to her. She's never liked it. It makes her uncomfortable and self-conscious… It reminds her of her mother, when she used to berate her. Regina closes her eyes, her jaw clenching and she takes a few steps back from him.

When she opens her eyes back, she realizes that he's also stepped back having noticed her uneasiness. He smiles and she finds herself relaxing a little even for a short bit.

"Robin." She frowns and he smiles again. "My name. It's Robin. And he's Roland. I thought you should know now that you've been hired as our new sitter."

He chuckles at her confused face.

"I'm joking."

She scoffs.

Hard to believe that not five minutes ago he was almost crying, begging her to examine his son. Now, he is  _ joking _ .

"Thanks again," he tells her more seriously, "and I promise to be back soon."

Regina watches him leave the office and cross the waiting room towards the foyer. She lets out a sigh, her shoulders dropping when she hears the door closing itself.

After a few seconds, she turns her attention back to the boy lying on the table.

He's looking at her with round brown eyes, his index and middle finger inside his mouth, sucking on them. She wrinkles her nose at that but doesn’t say anything. He's more alert than before but he stills looks tired.

She walks up to him and puts the back of her hand on his forehead. She grabs the cloth his father has brought with them and is about to go to the toilet to wet it a little when his voice stops her. It's more of a mumble than actual words but she can make out the two syllables “gi” and “na”. She turns back to look at him and he has one arm stretched toward her.

She frowns in confusion.

"I'm just going to wet this," she explains but he keeps his arm lifted towards her. "You… You want me to carry you?" she asks, eyes wide open in horror.

He nods and she freezes.

"No," she tells him and, just as soon, his eyes start watering. "No, don't cry…" She quickly begs.

She sighs, biting her lower lip.

_ This is a good idea _ .

She walks up to the boy and puts her hands under his arms, lifting him. He wraps his legs around her waist and leans his head on her shoulder. She hears a pop and immediately feels his fingers dipped in saliva against her collarbone.

Regina clamps her teeth hard into her lips, closing her eyes.

"Thank you,  _ Doc ‘Gina _ " she hears him say and then he has his fingers back in his mouth.

_ A good idea. _

…

He did not lie. In ten minutes, he's back and with the necessary medicine for his son. However, the boy wasn’t as patient as she and he soon fell asleep, curled up against her, on the couch.

She hasn't dared move since. Not even when she heard the knock on the door followed by rushed footsteps on the wood tiles.

"Where are you?" she hears him ask but is unable to answer.

Sweat has been dripping down the back of her neck for minutes now, the small lump wrapped around her making it hard for her to even breathe normally.

The terror and discomfort she's feeling must surely show on her face because when the boy's father finally finds his way to them, in the living room, he raises his eyebrow in confusion looking between her and the child he's abandoned to her care ( _ Her care! Of all people! _ ) before asking jokingly:

"You're not much of a child person, are you?" and walking up to release her from his son's grip.

And she breathes out.

She doesn't pick on his question and he doesn't seem to be expecting an answer either way.

He looks down at his boy and gently wakes him up.

"Hey, my boy," he whispers and the boy in question (Roland. His name is Roland, she recalls) stirs before looking up into his father's eyes. "Here. I've got you your medicine. Why don't you take them and then you can sleep all the way back home?"

"I don't want the  _ m'dicine _ , Papa," Roland argues, his lower lip quivering.

"But it will make you feel better. You'll be all bright and up and maybe even able to go to the harbour tomorrow," he offers with a playful grin.

Regina watches the exchange with great attention and she's surprised when the boy agrees to his father's bargain so easily.

The blonde man smiles with satisfaction, pulling the cough syrup out of the plastic bag.

He takes all his medicine without wincing and soon he's relaxing into his father's embrace, closing his eyes to fall back into a profound slumber.

"Thank you."

His voice brings her out of her reverie and she looks from child to father.

"For watching him. And I'm sorry for having asked so much from you already… You’ve not even officially started working yet…"

"That's alright," Regina dismisses.

It isn't but she knows that saying so would be considered rude so she swallows it in.

"Will we be seeing you at the fair tomorrow?"

"I wasn't aware there was a fair tomorrow," she deadpans more to herself before responding with a simple, "Probably not."

"That'd be a shame. The school has been in charge of decorating and managing some of the stalls for years now and I must say -- we've outdone ourselves this time," he says, a smug smile gracing his lips.

"You're a teacher?" she asks with a raise of her brow.

She doesn't know why but it surprises her. Maybe she's expected him to be a forest warden or something like that. His redolence probably.

"I am," he acquiesces and she can see pride welling into his eyes as he does so. "It's a very fulfilling job but you probably know what I mean."

"I guess," she says and he frowns. It's subtle and quick but she notices before he shakes it away and plasters his dimpled grin back on his face. In his arms, the boy stirs a little and his father shushes him gently, kissing his forehead. Then, he peers back into her eyes and she feels her heart flutter painfully in her chest.

Perhaps it's the different lighting or perhaps it’s because she's finally fully recovered from her off-the-cuff babysitting gig but she’s only just now realizing just how deep and blue his eyes are. How did she miss it before?

_ It's like looking into the ocean…I like it. I hope to never have to stop looking into them. _

She can almost feel Daniel's fingers against her cheek and see his face lit up with a smile at her comment…

"Doc? Regina? Doctor?"

The brunette shakes her head and looks up, a bit disoriented.

"You seemed lost in deep thoughts."

"I…was," she trails off, "but it's not important."

She stands up and clears her throat, this little drive down memory lane having shaken her a bit.

"Right," The blonde man says, standing up in turn, careful not to wake the sleeping Roland. "Anyways, thank you again Doc. I don't know what I would have done without you." He smiles down at his son then back at her. "I really hope to see you tomorrow. Everyone will be there; it could be the perfect occasion to introduce yourself. I know… I know I'd be happy to see you."

He smiles.

"I don't really…" She bites her lower lip with uncertainty, not really knowing how to phrase it or if she should bother phrasing it at all. "People…" She glances up. "They aren't my thing," she confesses and she expects him to laugh or look at her with shock and incomprehension like everyone usually does but instead he keeps on smiling and nods.

"Well, at least you'll know Roland and I and if you need saving from all those inquiring minds… I promise to sneak you out."

He chuckles at his own words and gives her a wider grin.

"See you tomorrow. At least, I hope so. Goodbye, Doc"

He smiles one last time and turns around, out of the room and soon out of the house.

As for Regina, she stays still for a moment, a bit taken aback by this man and all that he is before whispering into the emptiness:.

“It's Doctor.”


	2. A Fairy Fair

It’s a small sound. Soothing really. Probably not the best choice for an alarm clock but it works for him, it helps him leap out of bed bright-eyed and bushy tailed. And isn’t he feeling in a particularly good mood, today?! An exquisite one, really. 

Robin smiles, his face washed by the shy sun peeking through the curtains of his room. Yes, today, he’s in a very good mood.

He’s taken with her. He’s known it from the second he walked out of her house, a sleeping Roland in his arms. He doesn’t know why (Well, he does know why. She’s quite the mesmerising kind -- a face hard to get out of the mind) but he is and as he wakes up on Sunday morning, unduly excited about the annual winter fair, he can only think about how much he hopes that the new town’s doctor will join the festivities.

The man chuckles, shaking his head as he pushes the covers and slides out of bed. He rubs the sleep off his face and ushers towards his son’s bedroom. His boy is still sleeping, fingers hanging into his mouth and snoring a complaint. Robin’s first move is to put a hand against the child’s forehead, checking his temperature and he’s relieved to see that it seems to have dropped.

Last night was a nightmare and something he’s simply not ready to relive again. Being a single father was never a problem for him. Of course, it wasn’t the initial plan. It was supposed to be him and Marian. The two of them doing this  _ together _ … Things didn’t quite worked out that way.

Roland was barely one when Marian left them. She moved to England; a job opportunity having presented itself to her. She’s an architect -- one bloody talented one and Robin can’t deny that the market, here in Storybrooke, or even in the state is definitely not up to her skills. England was her dream and she couldn’t turn it down even if that meant not being there for their son every day of his life.

Of course, she visits but more often than not, Robin has a hard time being civil. He knows he should at least try, for the sake of their child. He knows how much she loves Roland and that the boy adores her back. She just was never -- having a child, it was never her dream. She lived for adventures, she wanted to be free. Being a mom wasn’t it for her so she left for a life that seems to suit her better. Still, there’s resentment on his part… She left him. She left Roland and he’s pissed. He can’t remember a time when he’s not been pissed at her but he worked it out. Roland and he… they established their routine and he knows his son is happy. He makes sure of it. However, days like yesterday make the job hard. They make him feel like, perhaps, he isn’t good enough… that he isn’t enough and when that happens his animosity towards his son’s mother rises to its highest and he has that aching lump in his stomach because she should be here and she isn’t.

Fortunately, days like yesterday are in the past and he is in a  _ particularly _ good mood today.

Roland is better and the sight of him, peacefully sleeping with no worries in his mind makes Robin realise just how lucky he is to have this little lad in his life. The blonde man smiles, leaning to kiss the sleeping child’s forehead before whispering to him gentle good mornings. The curly-haired boy shifts on the bed, eyes still closed but now wearing a deep frown on his forehead in response to the disturbance. This has Robin’s lips tug into a small grin.

Roland has never been a morning person. Ever since he was a toddler, getting him up in the morning is like watching a rocket about to take off -- it could either go very well or be a complete disaster. Today though, Robin has a card to play. A simple but effective one: the winter fair.  

The five-year-old has been going on and on about the fair all week and there’s no way he would miss it. Especially since he’s in charge of the refreshment stall with his classmates and teacher, Mary-Margaret. Plus,  _ Uncle Killian _ is performing again this year, resuming his role as the infamous Captain Hook on the “Jolly Roger” (it’s really just an old boat not nearly as big as the imaginary ship but it undoubtedly remains one of the most famous show of the fair along with Marco’s puppets) and Roland wouldn’t want to miss that for the world.

“Hello my boy,” he tells him. “Today’s the fair. Remember, you’re on the first shift for the refreshment stall.” And that does it.

He pops one eye open and looks up at his father with an inquisitive gaze.

“It’s today, Papa?” he asks quietly.

Robin nods.

“It is,” he confirms, “and we wouldn’t want to stand up Miss. Mary-Margaret, would we?”

The boy instantly shakes his head.

“So”, Robin starts, uncovering his son and lifting him up in his arms, “how about we get ready and for breakfast we go to Granny’s? I’m sure she’ll have two of those delicious pumpkin spiced muffins for us.”

“With caramel milk?” Roland asks and beams at Robin’s “that goes without saying”.

They’re soon done with their showers. Robin first helps Roland wash up before hopping under the water in turn. Then, it’s time to pick up an outfit for the two of them and if his son is quick to make up his mind (a pair of jeans, a green and white chequered shirt underneath a green cardie and his usual brown down jacket), for Robin, the task is, for some reasons (that have nothing to do with his desire to look neat for a certain brunette who might not even be coming), a bit more difficult. 

Robin shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his own silliness as a low chuckle escapes his throat.

“Why are you laughing, Papa?” Roland asks him from the bed, swinging his legs happily.

“Nothing, my boy,” he replies with a smile, “I’m just being silly,” he finishes before bringing back his attention to his wardrobe.

A few minutes pass by and thanks to Roland’s precious help, Robin settles for a long-sleeved grey henley and a pair of jeans. He’ll wear his brown boots and his green jacket and that should do. Of course, it will, he tells himself as he checks himself into the mirror, wondering for half a second if he couldn’t have taken the time to trim up his beard a little so he wouldn’t look like a bloody tramp.

“Papa, we’re going to be late.”

“Yes, right,” the blonde man murmurs before finally turning away from the glass.

He’s getting all worked up for a woman he’s just met yesterday and she might not even come. 

The man sighs but a small cough erupts from Roland’s throat and all his attention is instantly back on his son.  

“I’m fine, Papa,” the boy quickly says afraid that he won’t be allowed to go to the fair if he’s still sick.

And after all of this -- the getting ready, the growing excitement… Robin doesn’t feel like breaking his heart. He cocks his head for a second before walking towards the bed, squatting to be at his son’s level.

“I know you want to go and we will.” Roland’s eyes brighten and he gives his dad a toothy smile, his little chest dropping with relief. “But,” Robin continues, lifting a warning finger “you’re wearing a scarf, the heavy woollen one.”

“But it itches, Papa,” he protests, but quietens at Robin’s earnest gaze.

“I know it does but it’s to keep you warm, alright?”

The boy’s shoulders slump but he nods.

“And, if at any moment, the fever comes back or your coughing gets worse, we’re coming back home. It isn’t up for discussion, it is as it is, ok?”

“Ok, Papa,” he agrees though he makes sure to pout, just for good measures. 

“Alright then,” Robin says with a smile as he stands up. “Let’s go get you your medicine and we’re off.”

… 

They don’t really stay long at Granny’s, just enough time for Roland to drink his milk and for him to drink his coffee before eating (or rather gobbling) up  their muffins. The boy is agitated and can’t stop asking the time afraid that they will be late and that Miss. Mary-Margaret would give away his shift to someone else. Robin tried during the whole drive to the dinner, and whilst they were eating, to convince him that he had no need to worry, that he had to remember that Papa also has a stall to set up anyway before the first townspeople start arriving but it still doesn’t do it. Roland nods but his legs are still swinging and he is biting out another piece of muffin that is way too big for his mouth and Robin simply sighs and drinks up his coffee because he knows his boy won’t be reassured until they are at the harbour. 

When they arrive, the place is quiet, a clashing contrast to how vibrant it will become in just a couple of hours when the activities start. Still, it’s already quite magical. The large pine tree is still standing despite Christmas being over, in the middle of the harbour with its tinsels and Christmas bulbs and fairy lights. It’s surrounded by stalls and other booths. On the sea, just by the wooden pontoon, there is the Jolly Roger that the mayor makes sure to only put out at the last minute in order not to spoil the surprise and it works… every time. Children’s eyes lit up before the timbered piece.  

“It’s even bigger than last year,” Roland observes with wide eyes as soon as he gets out of the car and spots the ship. 

It isn’t. It’s the same exact boat but Robin would never take the magic away for Roland so he chuckles before answering to him with an “It seems to be, doesn’t it?” as he grabs bows and arrows from the trunk of his car for his target practice booth. He then follows his son, greeting the other teachers that have already arrived: Katherine and of course… 

“Miss. Mary-Margaret!” Roland happily shouts, waving at the pixie haired woman upon spotting her. 

She looks up instantly and beams at him warmly, waving back. 

“Good morning, Roland,” she tells him as they arrive by her side. 

“We came early so you wouldn’t give my shift to someone else,” Roland informs.

“I would have never done that but I’m glad you’re here. You can help me set up our stall, what do you say?”

“Of course,” Roland replies, excited, and he is soon off with no care in the world for his father. 

Robin shakes his head, putting down the quiver he’s been carrying on his shoulder.

“Sorry about that,” he apologises.

“That’s alright,” she replies with a smile.

“He might not look like it right now because his adrenaline is obviously going through the roof but he gave me a bit of a scare last night. It’s nothing too serious,” he quickly adds when Mary-Margaret starts twitching in concern, “it’s just a cold, but I wanted you to know so if you notice that he starts getting tired or that he gets a bit feverish, you tell me.”

“Of course. No problem at all,” she assures with a nod. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Thank you,” Robin replies, grateful.

Suddenly, the brunette is looking past him and her smile instantly grows three sizes. With a frown on his face, Robin turns slightly, and notices David Nolan arriving in overalls, toolbox in hand. A knowing smile appears on Robin’s face before he pivots back to face his colleague. She blushes as soon as her eyes find his and she quickly excuses herself, telling him that Roland must be waiting for her. 

“See you later,” she says before backing away, grabbing the sides of her coat to wrap it tightly over her stomach. 

Robin’s smirk doesn’t dim as he watches her walk away. He shakes his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. He’s been living in Storybrooke for 9 years and ever since then, he hasn’t failed to notice the obvious-to-everyone-but-David crush the young teacher has on the handyman, and from what he heard from Storybrooke’s official rumour mill, Leroy (local radio star as well as occasional employee of the the city) she’s had feelings for him since they were children but could never admit to them due to her shyness. However, something inside his guts tells Robin that this year, things could be different, for everyone. A wind of change is blowing in town. He can’t quite explain it. He just feels it. 

…

It’s an unsurprising success. Everyone is enjoying themselves. Children are running around, making balls with the fake snow, the weather haven’t yet provided them with the real treat, and throwing them at every passerby. The music is loud and the smiles on everyone’s face are enough to warm even the coldest of the heart. 

Roland is of course having a blast. His shift ended so he can now be free to enjoy the fair, wearing himself out with a bright smile on his face and an occasional wave at his father. Robin on the other hand, isn’t really able to get into the festivities. Ever since it started, he’s been eying every new comer hoping that one would stand out. A petite brunette with short hair and big brown eyes, for instance… No such luck. She did say she wouldn’t come. In fact, she explicitly said so.  _ “People… they aren’t my thing” _ , were the words she used, so it’s silly for him to think (hope, really) that she’ll come, isn’t it?

Robin breathes out heavily before putting on a fake smile as he hands another sets of arrow to one of the children. 

“You’re in an awfully bright mood, mate,” Will observes with irony as he pats a child on the shoulder after giving him bow and arrows to try his luck.

Will is the school’s P.E. teacher, Robin’s closest friend after Killian, and, today, his stall partner. Who would have thought Storybrooke to be such a popular place amongst Brits to attract three of them? Robin and Will have known each other for 4 years now and although things started off less than cordially between the do, they grew to be really good friends and that meant that Will wouldn’t be fooled by phony smiles and forced politeness.  

“What do you mean?” Robin asks, raising a brow. 

“I don’t know mate. You seem distracted. Are you still worried about Roland? He seems fine to me.” Will chuckles as Roland unceremoniously falls on the ground, hit by a snowball, his giggles echoing to his ears. 

Robin grins, a comforting warmth creeping inside his chest. Roland has always been a rather shy boy and just a few months ago, Robin was scared that he would have a hard time making friends at all. Fortunately, things changed. He isn’t sure when exactly but his five-year-old boy grew more confident and he is now rolling into fake snow with some other children when last year he was glued to his father’s side. 

“You be careful, Roland,” Robin hears Mary-Margaret cautioned and a distracted “Yes, Miss.” leaves the boy’s mouth and he is back to playing. 

Robin laughs, then looks back at Will. 

“I’m alright,” he tells his friend who is still waiting for an answer.

“If you say so.” Will huffs, definitely unconvinced.  

“Hi Mr Locksley.” Robin turns around to the sound of a young voice greeting him and finds himself face to face with Henry Swan, one of his student and the sheriff’s son. 

“Hey there Henry,” he greets cheerfully. “Do you want to try your luck at archery?”

The ten-year-old boy takes a second to think about it before shrugging off his backpack, letting it fall on the ground and nodding. Robin smiles, patting his back. 

Robin has always been really fond of Henry, even before he became his teacher. He’s a quiet boy. He’s always reading some book or comic on a bench during recess or even outside the station while his mum is working. He has a fondness for supernatural and fantasy stories. Lately, he’s been dragging around that big old book of fairytales that he found at the town’s library on one of their school’s outings. Needless to say that, the other children never shied away from teasing him about it. Children -- people, in fact -- have a hard time accepting anyone who doesn’t fit into the mould and instead of being understanding or simply letting them be, they choose to pick on them. It got to a point where Henry would skip school, lying to his mum every morning and going to the Toll Bridge, an old and crumbling bridge at the edge of the forest, instead of going to school. His little ruse lasted for a couple of days before Mary Margaret, his teacher at the time, and Emma, his mother, realised what was going on. One time after class, Mary Margaret asked to talk him and soon she understood what was going on between Henry and his classmates without him having to voice it. 

So, yes, Robin has a fondness for him and has this desire to help him, a bit like the big brother Henry sometimes tells him he wishes he had.

“Is your mum here?” Robin asks, helping him positioning himself. 

“Yes. She’s walking around. Being all sheriff-y.”

Both Robin and Will chortle at that. 

“Feet shoulder width apart, just like we learnt in P.E., you remember?” Robin tells him.

“Yes,” Henry nods, placing his feet correctly. 

Then he raises the bow.

“Hand gripping the arrow to the jaw,” he recites while doing so. “Pulling and…”

He shots. 6 points. 

“Good job,” Robin tells him. 

“A blueberry.”

“A blueberry?” Robin repeats, an amused smile on his face, looking at an equally amused Will.

“Yes. It’s an arrow that hits the blue ring.”

“I know that. I don’t remember teaching you that in class, though.”

“I’ve read about it,” Henry replies with a shrug. 

“Of course you have,” Robin laughs. “Come on, you’ve got two more shots. I’m sure you can get a cherry,” he says with a wink and Henry rolls his eyes making the man laugh harder. 

As Henry is about to shoot another arrow, Robin is distracted by some hubbub coming from behind him. He looks around and when his eyes fall onto her, he almost can’t believe it. 

She is here. She came. A smile instantly appears on the man’s face, his heart growing two sizes. He can’t help it. He’s so happy to see her. Bollocks! He is more than happy. 

“Who’s that?” Henry asks, noticing the newcomer in turn.

“The new doctor,” Robin replies, gleeful eyes still locked onto the woman’s face. 

“Oh that’s her,” Will says, standing next to him. “Not bad,” he observes.  _ Not bad at all _ , Robin thinks to himself.

“She doesn’t look too comfortable.” 

Henry’s words bring Robin out of his reverie and he looks at him then back at Regina. He’s right. Around her, the crowd of prying eyes grows larger and he recognises the panic in her brown eyes. The same she had yesterday when he got back to the surgery with Roland’s medicine. “ _ People… they aren’t my thing _ ,” he recalls.  _ Damn _ .

“Can you manage the stall alone for a bit, please?” Robin asks Will, and without waiting for an answer, he’s walking toward the entrance of the fair. He did promise to sneak her out after all. 

As he gets closer he sees Mrs. Gale hug her and Robin notices every muscle in the brunette’s body tensing up, her eyes darting around, looking for an escape.

“Oh Doc, it’s so nice to finally meet you. We’ve been waiting for a doctor for so long. I can’t wait to go see you at the office.”

“You can’t wait to be sick,” she deadpans once free, breathing out. 

Robin can’t help but chuckle inwardly and Mrs. Gale slaps her arm, giggling. “Don’t be silly.”

“Hey there, Doc,” Robin says with a wide smile, finally intervening, and he doesn’t know if he’s become delusional but he could swear he saw the muscles of her jaw unclench for a second when she noticed him. “Come on people, we have to let our doctor breathe now. Come on now, the children have prepared so many activities for you to enjoy, you can’t let them down. You’ll have plenty of time to meet the doc later.”

“You’re right Robin” Mrs Gale tells him. “We will see you later.” She gives Regina a small smile and the brunette tenses back up. Fortunately, after that the crowd slowly dissolves leaving the two of them finally alone and giving Regina plenty of space to relax. 

A quiet sigh is heard and Robin turns to look at her. She’s got her eyes closed and he sees her chest rising up and down slowly. At her feet, a dog he recognises as Toto, Dorothy’s dog, is sat, his muzzle open and tongue hanging. 

“Are you alright?” he asks after a while.

She looks up at him with… confusion? He’s not sure. Curiosity, perhaps. 

“I’m alright, thank you.”

“I’m glad to see you here. I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“I -- I wasn’t planning on but… my uncle…” She winces. “Since he was coming, I thought I’d accompany him.”

“Your uncle is Marco, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you came. I’m sorry, our townspeople can be a bit eager.”

A wry chuckle escapes her lips and Robin’s heart misses a beat at the sound. He looks at her, a small smile on his face as she shakes her head, looking around. 

They are suddenly interrupted by Sydney Glass, mayor of Storybrooke. He arrives before them, a loud “Doctor Mills!” escaping his lips, driving Toto to bark in surprise. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t welcome you yesterday.”

Regina looks at him with confusion before eyeing Robin for answers. 

“Hi Sydney,” Robin says. “This is Sydney Glass,” he then tells Regina. “Our mayor.”

“Oh,” is all she lets out in response.

“It’s really nice to finally meet you Regina. Can I call you Regina?,” the man asks her with a wide smile.

“I -- I’d rather not,” she says with a frown before adding a quick “Sorry” and Robin has to fight everything in him not to burst into laughter at the sight of Sydney’s face. 

It’s not that he doesn’t like the man, it’s just that -- well yeah, he doesn’t like the man. He’s arrogant and not very good at his job at that but he has to live with him as mayor for at least two more years so he just shuts his mouth and nods mechanically at anything the man says so long as it doesn’t affect the school or kids. 

“Very well then. Mrs Mills -”

“Doctor…”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s Doctor Mills. I prefer Doctor Mills.”

“Alright, Doctor Mills, then. Would you do us the honour to come on stage for a small speech?”

“Wh -- What?”

Regina instantly glances up at Robin, panic in her eyes. 

“Is it really necessary, Sydney?”

“Mr. Locksley, please. Don’t you have a stall to take care of?” He turns to Regina. “I will go on stage and call your name, alright? Alright.”

Then the man is off towards the small stage by the docks without giving the woman a chance to answer. Robin’s jaw tightens and he rolls his eyes. 

“Is this working?” Sydney says in the mic. “Yes it is. Good morning everyone. Welcome to our annual Storybrooke winter fair,” he starts off and everyone cheers. 

Robin turns to look at Regina. She’s nibbling at the side of her thumb and the fingers of her other hand are thumbing on her thigh as if she’s counting.

“Hey,” he whispers putting a hand on her shoulder and she freezes at the touch, startled. “I… I’m sorry,” Robin says quickly. “Can I?” he asks, this time, his hand hanging in the air and she slowly nods. He smiles at her. “Don’t worry. You just go up there and say a quick hello to everyone, they’ll be happy. And if you are nervous, I usually tell my students to picture everyone naked,” he jokes. 

The brunette furrows her brows at him, not impressed and he can’t help but laugh. When he looks back at her she’s smiling. Not much but enough to make his heart flutter and to make him grin softly in return. 

“Papa!” Roland exclaims, jogging towards him. 

“Hey there!” Robin says lifting him up in his arms. 

“Hi Doc Gina,” his boy greets happily, waving his hand sticky with toffee apple caramel.

“You should be in bed,” she observes and Roland’s face instantly drops. 

She looks at Robin and he gives her a knowing look. She clears her throat. “But since it’s -- it’s a special occasion… just keep your scarf on.”

“I promise Doc Gina!” Roland says enthusiastically. 

Robin notices her wince at the moniker and he can tell she’s about to say something but her name is called in the loudspeakers and everyone is turning to look at her, clapping cheerfully. 

It takes her a moment but then she is taking a deep breath before walking through the crowd towards the stage. Her uncle joins her as she is about to hop on the platform, stopping her and telling her something. She shakes her head at him and he nods.. She climbs the two stairs and arrives next to Sydney, just behind the mic and the clapping slowly dozes off. 

Robin looks at her as she scopes the crowd, swallowing hard.

“Hello,” she says after a while but her mouth is too close to the mic and it makes the speakers shriek in displeasure. 

She jumps and steps back a bit. Her gaze meets his and he gives her a encouraging nod.

“Hello,” she says anew, once the noise has stopped and looking back at the crowd, “... everyone.” 

And then, silence. 

“She’s a weird one, innit?” Will says, arriving next to him. 

Robin throws him a glare making him raise his hands in apology. 

“Welcome to Storybrooke!” He then shouts. “Clap!” He tells Will in a whisper, kicking him in the ribs. 

The man grunts but obeys, cheering up and soon everyone joins him. 

Robin watches as Regina’s shoulders relax. She gives a polite smile at Sydney then goes off the stage to her uncle to whom she talks for a bit before the two walk back towards him.

“Hello Robin,” the old man says with a smile. “Hi there, Roland. You know, there is a nice puppet show that is about to start. I’m sure you will like it,” he informs with a wink.

Roland’s eyes instantly brighten up and soon, he’s jiggling out of his father’s arms and down on his feet. 

“You should come too,” Marco tells Regina. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m not a child anymore.”

“Nonsense, the child in all of us is never far. Come on, let’s go.”

“You’re going to like it,” Robin tells her. “Marco is the best storyteller ever.”

“I remember,” Regina whispers and he can detect a hint of sorrow in her voice. 

When he looks at Marco, the man is looking at his niece, the same sorrow with a mix of guilt in his eyes. The handy man lets a sigh out before clearing his throat. “Will you be joining us Will?”

“I would love to but someone has to run the stall while mister here cavorts around,” he accuses and Robin gives him a cherubic smile, one he’s learnt to master ever since his knee-high to a grasshopper roommate entered his life.

Will rolls his eyes, scoffing. 

“By the way,” he says after a while, turning to Regina, “I’m Will Scarlet, nice to meet you.” 

He then takes her hand in his and kisses it.

Regina takes her hand back almost immediately and grabs a tissue inside her jacket’s pocket. Robin almost chokes on his laughter at Will’s offended look. Regina is confused at first and she glances back and forth between Robin, Will and her uncle. 

“I… I just don’t like microbes,” she says after a bit.

“A bit weird for a doc, innit?” Will inquires.

“No… It isn’t really.”

Will’s mouth open but no words come out. Robin shakes his head, patting his friend on the shoulder. 

“Anyway,” the brown-haired man begins, his ego obviously bruised. “I have to go back to the stall. Thanks for the offer though,” he tells Marco before leaving. 

“I’m going to get the puppets ready then,” the old man says giving a mysterious smile at Roland and the boy bounces in excitement.

“Come on Roland, go sit down with the other children,” Robin tells him once Marco has disappeared behind the décor. “I’m going to sit on the bench with the doctor, alright.”

“Alright Papa. See you later. See you later, Doc Gina,” he says, waving his hand as he runs away. 

Robin smiles before heading towards a bench not too far. He sits down, Regina next to him. At her feet, a grey bundle of fur settles, lying on the ground. Regina frowns, scooting away. 

“He seems to like you.” 

“I’d rather it didn’t.”

Robin laughs. Not too far, he catches sight of Henry walking towards them, his lower lip clamped between his teeth. 

“Came to see Marco’s show?” Robin asks him once he is within earshot.

“I would never miss it,” the boy replies sitting next to him and Robin smiles. 

“This is Henry. He is one of my brightest students.”

“That’s not very hard,” Henry mumbles and Robin chastises him. “Sorry,” he shrugs. “By the way,” he adds after a beat, looking at Regina “I don’t like talking in public either.”

Robin  smiles at him before looking at Regina. She’s taken aback at first then a small grin appears on her face. Robin smiles at the sight, feeling his chest hot. He slowly turns his gaze towards the puppet stage and the small purple curtains slowly open. 

The smile never leaves his face.

… 

Marco’s puppet show must have been mesmerising as per usual judging by the roar of applause and Robin is sure that if he hadn’t been so enthralled with the woman sitting next to him, he would have enjoyed it as much as everyone else. 

The man lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. When he looks up, the lights on the Jolly Roger are shining and the crowd almost instantly gathers next to the boat.

“Papa!” Roland comes running. “Uncle Killian’s show is starting!” 

“I can see my boy.”

“We have to go closer. Come on Doc Gina,” Roland says taking Regina’s hand. 

The brunette looks up at Robin with distress in her eyes and Robin can only shrug, mouthing an “I’m sorry”. 

He follows them along with Henry whose hand had also been kidnapped by an eager Roland. Once they arrive close to the boat but not close enough to Roland’s liking, the boy turns towards his father with a pout. There are a lot of people already standing there, ready for the show and it will be difficult for him to see even on his father’s shoulders.

“Why don’t you sneak in between them to go in the front. Henry can maybe accompany you?”

“Sure,” Henry replies with a shrug. “Come,” he tells to Roland and the boy follows him happily.

Once they manage to reach the front, Roland turns around and waves at his dad. Robin smiles, waving back. 

“I’m sorry about that. He seems to be quite fond of you. He isn’t usually that easy going with strangers.”

“It’s… It’s alright.”

Robin nods. 

A loud “Oye, Oye!” is heard and Killian, appears on the boat applauded by the entire audience. 

“And this is our very own Captain Hook,” Robin says with a laugh. “Aka Killian Jones -- also known as my best friend.”

“I thought the other one was your best friend.”

“Will? He also is a very good friend but I’ve known Killian for longer. We were in high school together back in England.”

“This explains the accent.”

“Yes, I guess it does,” Robin replies with a laugh. “We came here together as well. We’ve done pretty much everything together. Even got into trouble with the police,” he recalls, shaking his head. 

Regina’s brows furrow and he laughs. 

“Breaking and entering,” he makes explicit. 

“So you were a thief?”

“No -- Well… Yes, kind of…”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you steal?”

He’s a bit confused with the question at first. No one ever asked him that before and to be frank… he never wondered either. 

“I was sixteen,” he starts, “and stupid. And in need of -- I don’t know… a purpose, I guess.”

“And the purpose you found was to become a thief.”

“Not my best idea,” Robin laughs. “I did say I was very stupid.”

“You were,” she shrugs matter-of-factly and he laughs some more. “Did you… go to jail?”

“No, but my parents kicked me out of the house and well -- it’s the kind of thing that makes you stop and think about your life choices. I still couldn’t find my place in England so with Killian we began to work in a pub and saved money to come here. It was like I had a chance at a new life so I decided to do something more honest.”

“You became a teacher.”

“Not at first. At first, I taught target practice,” he says smiling. “Hence the archery stall,” he adds pointing at the stall where Will is sat at.

He looks back at Regina, a small grin on his face. She nods before looking back at the show. As for Robin, he tries to do the same but it’s almost impossible for him to detach his eyes from her face. 

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he finds himself saying.

The brunette’s eyes dart open. “Excuse me?”

“You look beautiful,” he repeats, simply.

And Lord, she is. From the second he saw her in the middle of the crowd, trying desperately to find an escape, he noticed just how beautiful she was. Even more so than yesterday. Perhaps, it’s the light of the day or perhaps she’s just that kind of woman that gets more beautiful with each passing second but yes, he finds her completely breathtaking. Unlike any woman he has ever met. 

“Why?”

Her question surprises him and he frowns, chuckling.

“Why? I don’t know, you tell me.”

She smiles a bit but it’s more nervous than genuine and he instantly feels guilty for having put her on the spot like that. If what happened earlier is of any indication, she obviously doesn’t like it.  _ You’re an idiot, Locksley. _

“I cleaned up well too, didn’t I?” he says before he is able to stop himself at a lame (very, very lame) attempt to help her relax.

“Wh -- what?” And if it’s possible, her eyes’ size grows even bigger.

“I think I have. I know I should have shaved but girls seem to fancy the whole woodcutter vibe nowadays. So, I think I look handsome. Handsome-ish at least.”

For only response, Regina grows more confused.

“I’m messing with you,” he says shaking his head with a small giggle. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a small but very awkward pause that makes Robin want to punch himself in the throat or let Will shoot him with an arrow. 

“I -- I should go.”

He looks up at her and his face falls. 

“Oh! I… I hope I didn’t upset you. That was my attempt at making a joke. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No… It’s not... I just -- I stayed longer than I had anticipated and I still have a lot to do before opening the office on Monday.”

“Alright then.”

She looks at him, biting her lower lip the way he now knows she does when she’s nervous. He wants to say something but he isn’t really on good terms with his mouth at the moment so he shuts up and they look at each other, in silence… A very long silence. 

“I… I should find my uncle and say goodbye.”

“Oh, yeah right. Alright.”

“Goodbye.”

“You’re leaving?”

They both turn their head as one towards Henry. 

“Where is Roland?” Robin asks. 

“He’s with some other kids and Miss Mary-Margaret. So you’re leaving?” He asks again, looking at Regina.

“Yes, I have things to do back at the office.”

“Oh,” Henry says, his gaze lowering in disappointment. A look Robin is sure he was himself wearing not two seconds ago. “Can I come to the office tomorrow after school?” he asks suddenly, hopeful and Robin’s brows lift in surprise.

“Are you sick?” Regina asks, just as intrigued.

“No but…  Doc used to let me come all the time… since I want to be a doctor.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Please. I’ll be discreet. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Al -- Alright, I guess. If that’s ok with your parents.”

“Cool! Thank you, Doc! See you tomorrow!” Henry exclaims happily before heading back into the crowd. 

Robin watches him, stifling a giggle before looking back at Regina. 

“The former doctor didn’t use to let him come to the surgery, did he?” she realised and Robin shakes his head, laughing. 

“I don’t remember them being so close, no.”

The brunette sighs. 

“But it’d be good for Henry, I think. He’s had… issues with other kids. It’s a good thing if he finds you and the surgery to be a safe place.”

“Issues?” 

“He’s a quiet kid. He prefers to read books and imagine stories rather than play jacks or soccer or cops and robbers and whatnot… I don’t think he particularly minds being alone but the other kids… well, people don’t usually like anyone who is a bit different.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Regina whispers more to herself. So much that he almost misses it. “I -- I really have to go,” she then say after taking a breath and he nods.

“Have a good day.”

“You too…Mr. Locksley.”

Robin laughs, shaking his head. 

“Please, Robin is fine. Mr. Locksley is for my students.”

“Robin,” she says then and he nods with a smile. “And you shouldn’t keep Roland outside for too long with his cold.”

“Yeah, we’ll probably head home for lunch.”

“Good. Goodbye.”

He smiles and he watches her leave. Suddenly, she slows down her pace a bit and Robin frowns. She turns around to face him, lower lip clamped between her teeth. 

“You are not  _ not _ handsome,” she lets out and before he has time to say anything she’s already spun on her heels, walking towards her uncle, Toto, still trotting behind her.

“Fancying the new doc, I see.”

Robin doesn’t even glance at Will. His gaze is still on Regina, a smile so big it could hurt if he wasn’t still on a “you are not not handsome” induce stupor. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he simply replies after a while, turning back to look at Killian’s show. 

“Yeah right. My balls”

And for only response, Robin smiles smugly. Oh yeah, he’s definitely fancying her.

 


End file.
